


Bathroom Break

by Spinning_In_Infinity



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Cumshot, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Piss Play, water sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_In_Infinity/pseuds/Spinning_In_Infinity
Summary: You and Brahms find more interesting things to do in the bathroom.(Water-sports, urolagnia, gender-neutral reader)
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Bathroom Break

**Author's Note:**

> This was a private fic request I wrote for an Anon on Tumblr (august-bleeds-red).

You can tell Brahms needs the bathroom by the way he starts to fidget. You glance over to where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book balanced in his lap, but he doesn’t move to stand. You know what this means and try to conceal your smirk.

“You know,” you set aside your own book and stretch your arms above your head, “I think I’m gonna go take a shower.”

His head perks up like a puppy offered a treat and you can’t hold back a broad grin. Scrambling to his feet, he tugs on your sleeve until you rise, pulling you towards the door.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” you laugh.

The bathroom smells like pine and lemon, having been cleaned just yesterday. It was your first condition when Brahms expressed his interest in this particular kink – despite the nature of the act itself, you would only do it in a clean bathroom.

Brahms stands still as you slowly pull the loose sweater he’s wearing over his head, revealing the dirty white vest underneath. You roll your eyes – you launder his clothes as often as he’ll let you, but he will insist on going back to these filthy old shirts. You deposit both clothing items over the rim of the bath, then start to undo the leather belt he wears around his slacks. His long fingers thread through your hair as you pull down his pants, not surprised to see he’s decided to forgo underwear today. Since his sex life stopped being a solo act, he’s seen no need to bother with them.

You run your hands up his slim thighs, appreciating the lean muscle beneath the skin. He’s already hard, and you cradle his hips as you take him into your mouth, lapping up the bitter precum leaking from his tip. He’s plucking at the shoulder of your shirt, torn between getting you naked and enjoying your warm tongue lavishing affection on his length.

Within seconds of your clothes being discarded, his hands are pushing you down back onto the floor. His childish impatience continues to endear him to you, even if he can sometimes get a little rough with it. You know the position he wants you in – hands folded in your lap, head tilted back, mouth open.

The first warm droplets of piss land on your forehead, dripping into your eyes and down over your lips. The acidic tang coats your tongue and slides down your throat, the sheer erotic debasement of the act overpowering the unpleasantness of its taste. He’s clearly been holding onto this for a while as he showers you, your hair sticking to your face. You can rivulets of it running down your body, over your chest, pooling in your lap and dampening your pubic hair. For the last five seconds, he grips your throat with one hand and aims carefully into your mouth, filling you up before pushing your lower jaw closed with his thumb, ensuring you swallow every drop he gives you. You cough, gagging against the warm effluvia as it pours into your stomach.

His hands are on you – in your hair, over your chest, fingers sliding over your sex, spreading himself all over you, marking you as a dog does its territory. Fisting your sodden hair, he forces your lips over his cock and fucks your mouth, relishing the wet gagging sounds as he hits your reflex again and again. He pulls out just before he cums, shooting his load over your face, smearing it across your lips with the head of his cock. Gathering some of his cum on the tips of your index and middle finger, you suck them clean, the taste of piss and cum filling your mouth.

You feel dirty, degraded, cheap as a back-alley whore.

And fuck, don’t you just love it. 


End file.
